A Slytherin and a hero- Never an exclusive combination
by Shamelessly Radiant
Summary: Tribute to Regulus Arcturus Black, a Black, a Slytherin and a hero. Do not tell me Slytherin's aren't brave. Do not tell me they aren't loyal. Do not tell me they aren't wise. Look at Regulus Black. He sacrificed himself, avenging a house elf, and dying for a chance at peace. He died alone, this brave boy. He rose above his destiny and family legacy and made his choice.


**A/N:** **Yes I know, months without posting and suddenly four new things in three days? Blame the summer!**

 **I have a lot written, but I need to revise, or to type it in.. I love writing by hand, but it's so annoying to have to transfer it to my pc later. Oh well.**

 **This was written for my favourite male character in Harry Potter, Regulus Black. Enjoy!**

and how must Regulus Black have felt when he died? traitor to both sides, and discovering that the only he really cared about was a mere house-elf?

(don't let Hermione hear me of course)

but seriously, let's look at the life of Regulus Black, a hero, never quite recognised.

a small boy, raised in a pureblood family, brought up to believe Mudbloods and traitors should be eradicated.

how lonely, how confused, must he have felt then, after the glory days were over?

Sirius was long gone and hated him, his family adored Tom Riddle, supported his cause, had pushed their youngest- _only_ son into joining him.

but Regulus _saw_. He saw madness, death, insanity. Regulus saw. And he had no one to talk to. No one to stand by him, to guide him when he made the most difficult and most important choice of his life.

 _(once he had whispered 'stay' as his older brother left his ancestral home like a thief in the night, a Gryffindor too coward to even say goodbye. Once he had whispered 'stay' at the same time Sirius whispered 'come with me'. Once he had looked up at him, admired him, wanted to follow his footsteps._

 _once he had had an older brother.)_

and what a brilliant boy he was, discovering a secret only Dumbledore had figured out. smart, brilliant, wise and a Slytherin. It was never an exclusive combination.

do not tell me Slytherin's aren't brave. do not tell me they aren't good, aren't loyal. do not tell me they aren't wise. do not tell me they are egoistical and only care about their own good.

look at Draco Malfoy, suffering to keep his family safe.

look at Regulus Black, who died _alone_ and even in death was obligated to keep serving Lord Voldemort.

was his hand one of the many that tried to pull Harry down?

Regulus Arcturus Black, who despite everything he had even been taught, and despite everything he had been through, deemed a house elf's life more worthy than his own- in a house where their heads were cut off _for fun_. for cruelty.

do not tell me Slytherin's only care about themselves. do not tell me they cannot raise above their destiny.

Regulus abandoned Voldemort's cause because Tom Riddle treated Kreacher badly, left him on a forgotten island to _die_ and that was the last straw.

(but what did Regulus see, when he drank Voldemort's potion? his brother, leaving the house and his mother burning him off the family tree? his father clamping a hand on his shoulder and proclaiming him heir and only son, the burning weight and ache of a lifetime responsability to make his parents _proud?_

they should be proud just because he breathed. because he was brilliant, and loyal, and good. he was not kind, but he needn't be. he was brave, he was a Slytherin and always would be. they should be proud because he was a marvellous seeker, they should be proud because he was their son. but that was not how it worked. not in this family)

he died alone, throwing away the promised glory, sacrificed himself for love and hope for a better world- one where house elves would be treated better too. one where they would be treated as equals.

he died alone, for Kreacher he had already ordered to leave, and when he touched the water trying to assuage his thirst, he was pulled under by a hundred hands. all victims, all forced to serve.

he died alone, fighting for his cause, and a deep, maybe even ugly part of him, hoped his brother would find out, and finally be proud.

(Sirius never knew. perhaps that is the greatest tragedy of everything. both brothers died for a better world, for a chance at peace, and they never knew they were so alike)

this brave, scared, lonely boy.

he died alone.

do not tell me Slytherins don't love. do not tell me they aren't brave, loyal and wise. do not tell me they are evil.

look at Regulus Black, dying for a chance at peace, forsaking all his parent's twisted morals and empty words, going against his education and destiny, rising up above it, avenging a house elf. for all his pretty words about treating inferiors right, Sirius treated Kreacher so badly the elf betrayed him, even though he would be loyal to Regulus until the day he died.

Regulus Arcturus Black, my brave, loyal, wise, good Slytherin. you are a hero. a hero and a Slytherin. not an exclusive combination. you are a hero, and I hope, god I hope you and Sirius found each other, and forgave each other, somewhere in the afterlife.

I hope you made him _eat his words one by one._ you were never a coward. you were never weak. you were a boy.

I hope that when Voldemort died, the curse keeping your body captive was lifted and you finally found the peace you died for and you so deserved.

and I hope you know, that you will always be my hero.


End file.
